My husband teases me by saying, “yeah, but you don’t like science fiction”. Which, I said to him more than once in our earlier years together. Usually he says this when I’m in the fifth minute of flapping, hyperventilating, squeaking monologue about Billie Piper playing Rose playing Bad Wolf.

Or that most things I think about writing are prefaced with the phrase, “I like what John Scalzi says about this …”

Paul McCann mentions [redacted] and brings a 20 year body of work into cannon in an instant. And breaks the internet. I complain about cannon and head-cannon [because head cannon is NOT A THING].

What does all of this do for a 40 year-old woman?

It makes me feel excited — excited like Santa Claus is REAL.
It focuses me outside of my immediate world.
It helps me remember that all of this is real – but it ain’t all serious all the time.
Doctor Who shows chivalry and goodness.
Glee flirts.
AFP is power and determination
WTNV actually turns words the way my mind does, and keys into the absurdist part of me that doesn’t get aired out much.

I like Slate’s Political Gabfest because it tunes me into the political world in a way that is comfortable.
I like Adam Savage’s Still Untitled podcast because DANG he is clever, creative, and friendly sounding.
I like Wil Wheaton because he is the voice of my part of my generation.

I’m already apoplectic about the Doctor Who special — and the sequence / prequel this morning just cemented me as a screaming crazed fangirl. Honestly, I really need to have lunch with someone (either in person or on the phone) who is totally willing to hyperventilate over all this stuff. I am so.damn.excited.

Right after I gave Ryan Murphy a pass for the next season and a half because he did such a nice job on the first three shows of Glee this season he … just f*cked it all up. No Klaine duet at insane-o-imaginary-Christmas is just dumb. Update — 5.5 —- sweet mercy. Glee = where continuity goes to DIE.

My mom, of all people, pointed out that I’m supper behind on TBBT and so that could use some remedy.

So much big stuff I’ve been working on, thinking through, experiencing. So much grace and magic in my life right now but for tonight I’m just feeling shouty about TV because … it is easier ((and I’ve been waiting for DW for ten months)).

Heh.

Just checked my categories. ALSO! The November 1 Welcome to Night Vale is the best they’ve done in six weeks or two months. Made me totally happy and the weather was terrific. Update — I may have to learn how to do some audio editing just to make a “Cecil’s best words” loop for myself.

And as for AFP … she wrote a song for the woman who saved us all for so many years. Wait for 2:38 and then HEAR that song.

Thursday I drove to Atlanta to pick up my badge for my first ever major SciFi/Fantasy/Nerdgasm Con — Dragon*Con.

I am loving it – but it isn’t without a flaw or two —- this covers both the love and the other.

I stand (for about an hour) behind the adult love child of my brother and Abraham Lincoln. The voice and mannerisms are my brother’s every step of the way and the face and beard line clearly come from the Lincoln side. If the man were to shed a few pounds he’d have a sideline gig as a re-inactor for sure.

I see hundreds of people, about 50% of them are wearing clever t-shirts, of those I recognize about 50% of their clever references. I am about 40 people behind a perfect, yet grumpy looking, Tinkerbell (right down to the toe puffs and patterned wings).

I have my first two encounters with … stupid, thoughtless instances of sexism. The first is the drunk guy playing Baby Got Back on his ironic boom box while following me. If you’ve seen me, you know that this baby ain’t got back – it is a signature look for me – my backlessness. I cannot honestly say that this is different than drunk guy’s regular Thursday – but I assume it is at least a little different.

Second, is just the damn con badge. Bikini clad woman being chased by a leering dragon…. what the hell people? There are 50,000 people at this convention – it is reasonable to assume ONE of them would be a woman.

This morning my son and I went to participate in the costume parade – he was dressed as the Green Lantern and I was dressed as the 11th Doctor in this precise moment…

Even within the Doctor folks I didn’t get recognized much – which is alternately disappointing and totally reasonable since I am dressed as 90 seconds of a character that has a 50 year television history…

We were at the front of the parade and it was GREAT. I got to carry the “Everything D*C” to mark our section of the parade. It was fun and friendly and HUGE and beautiful and OMG. I kept seeing these amazing costumes on the street of people who were just WATCHING and it was just … amazing.

As part of the rules of the con, I had to wear my badge all the time. Jeff wore a Green Lantern lanyard and badge the whole time as well. During the parade he held on to it as closely as he held my hand. It was his ticket in, and (for him) the clarity of the character he was representing.

We talked, as we drove in, about how he could respond when strangers talked to him. Nothing prepared him for the number of Green Lantern brotherhood shout-outs he got.

There was an extra bit of sexism – somebody dressed as a doctor (MD, not Whovian) stopped and told me he wanted to me in the stirrups soon (ASS CLOWN!! – 50% of the people around me are too young to drive!) and a bit of General AssHatery – somebody publicly peed close enough to where kiddo and I were eating a snack that it flowed downhill and puddled at my ass. Props for public urination skills – but what the fuck?

We made dragon puppets and went to a child geared stage combat panel. Then we both staggered to the car – completely exhausted. Kiddo was out cold before I was back on the interstate and I needed a huge chunk of downtime when we got home.

I asked him tonight what he thought of when I said “Dragon*Con parade” — the part where we walked or we watched. He thought, first, of the part where we walked.

He and I, we are leos. Waving at strangers, Lantern ringing the cameras, sonic screwdriving the adorable Dalek costumed kids, it all makes total sense to us.

For those folks debating about going to Dragon*Con to see the parade. You should, it is amazing. For those who wonder if maybe some day they could / should walk it. Summon your inner leo and get the hell in the street.

I go back tomorrow to get my picture taken with famous people, to wear my homemade Night Vale shirt, and to take more pictures of amazing costumes.

Promise yourself 20 hours (I miss dancing, just like I do every summer) that you’ll practice it.

Not to sell it, not to be an expert, but to be good enough at it that you can tuck it away as something (ooooh, tying those Chinese knots) you can do.

This isn’t my personal idea (I’d like to start math from the beginning and get all the way to calculus (note: way more than 20 hours)) but the idea of Josh Kaufman.

It has been in my head as I find myself without things to plan (I would like to learn to whittle). I like planning things that I am excited about. I like big things to plan. It makes me keep moving on the little things (what would it take to make a fairy house) so that I can make room for the big thing.

Twenty hours (photoshop).

Time dialed in for adding to your personal (zumba moves) arsenal.

Have you chosen it yet?

Twenty hours, less time than I have spent watching Glee in the last year. Surely having a new secret super-ish power is worth twenty hours.

I am not shy about adoring the amazing AFP. I swooned awhile back about her TED talk, and now I will attempt the greatest form of flattery by doing my own rendition of this.

Our LLV has had the support of everyone in our lives, cheering us on and wishing us well, welcoming us with open arms and waiting patiently for our return. This weekend is a microcosm of the ways in which my family and I have been supported in LLV….

Thank you L for making the decision that saved us from a less than flowing day, and for choosing instead to be in a place that made you smile so brightly.

Thank you J for letting me use your car on the occasions that I need it.

Thank you stranger for pushing the car up the hill to safety when I needed it.

Thank you to K&D for picking me up and bringing the BEST BANANA EVER.

Thank you (different)D for offering to help in any way you can.

Thank you A for taking me into town for groceries, and then again for breakfast and coffee.

Thank you to the makes of red tools for the lawnmower, ax, saw, and cutter thingies that occupied me today.

Thank you to the fine people who make 1554 and the wine folks of Trader Joe’s.

Thank you (different)J and E for being willing to help me get into work tomorrow.

It is hard for me to ask for help sometimes, even harder to accept it when it is offered but this weekend was full of that very thing.

The other part was that I had some serious conversations that I needed to have with myself. This weekend had just enough tension to push me past my wanna-be-British “stiff upper lip” mentality and then enough time, support, and safety to get on my feet and prepare for all of the amazing things that are still on the way.